It Could Be Nicer Being Red
by Deadwoodpecker
Summary: This is the companion story to It's Not Easy Being Green. Ginny's POV. AU.
1. Prologue

Ginny Weasley could not pinpoint an exact moment when her dormant crush on Harry Potter deepened into something more. It crept up on her during the summer after her fifth year, when everything had changed. She told herself that it was just because she was worried about him, because Voldemort was after him. But she'd happened to glance his way at Bill and Fleur's wedding -- he'd been sitting at a table with her Auntie Muriel of all people -- and it was as though her feelings for him tapped her on the shoulder and said "We're back, just in case you didn't notice."

All through that year, they'd just grown stronger. Once, after the Carrows had been particularly harsh in their punishment, she'd actually pretended that it was Harry who'd applied the salve on her face, instead of Neville. And Harry's hands had been gentle and tender, not perfunctory and comradely. She never told anyone this; it was a little embarrassing that she was _that_ crazy about someone who barely noticed her.

Ginny didn't realize that it was _love_, and not just a silly, schoolgirl crush until she saw Hagrid carrying Harry's body out of the forest. Seeing him dead had almost killed her, and even though he'd only been pretending, it still haunted her sometimes. When he'd pulled off the invisibility cloak in the center of the Great Hall, and dueled Voldemort, she'd screamed right along with everyone else. But she liked to think that her scream came from a different place than anyone else's. And she'd thought, rather dazedly, that it wasn't really possible to feel that much for someone.

The relief had been almost frightening in its intensity.

After the battle, after Fred's funeral, Ginny kept thinking to herself that maybe her feelings had been borne of the intensity surrounding all of that. The summer that followed the war quickly disabused her of that notion. If anything, they just grew as she watched Harry awkwardly accept praise, offer sincere condolences, and just be a steady presence at the Burrow just after they'd lost Fred.

It had also been quite apparent that Harry had no idea what she felt. Mostly, she thought this was a good thing. They had an easy friendship -- Harry was very kind and attentive -- and she knew that if he somehow managed to figure it out, he'd be embarrassed and guilty. At least she wasn't sticking her elbow in the butter dish around him.

It wasn't so easily hidden from the rest of her family, however. They'd all figured it out after (or during) the Final Battle, and, once things had calmed down a bit, had offered their advice. "Just wait and see what happens, love," her mother had said. Ginny didn't much like this advice -- patience wasn't her strong suit -- but gritted her teeth and set out to being patient. "Date ozzer people," Fleur had offered. "You do not want to be lonely while you're waiting, do you?" So Ginny dated. Nothing at all serious, that wouldn't have been fair, but she didn't refuse to go to Hogsmeade just because she was in love with her brother's best mate, who also happened to be Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World.

"I think you need to take more direct action," George told her after she graduated from Hogwarts. But since Ginny didn't want to just grab Harry and snog him like George told her to, she decided to ignore that little gem.

"Harry's a nutter," Ron said, plenty of times. "I know he likes witches, but he avoids them like the plague. Cho really screwed him up, I think."

Hermione always smacked Ron on the head whenever he said this. "I just think Harry's going through a rough patch, romantically," she told Ginny on her nineteenth birthday. "He'll notice you. He just needs to be in the right place."

It was frustrating. And the only indulgence that she gave herself was doing stupid, silly little things. When Harry bought his new Firebolt, she decided that she'd polish it for him. It was a simple thing, but she hoped it made his life a little easier. And when Kreacher died two years after the war, Ginny took it upon herself to keep the front of Grimmauld Place clean and tidy. It was easy to do. She was there often enough, hanging out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and it wasn't any big deal to cast a few charms to keep Harry from having to do it.

It was really the only thing she could do.

Ginny was just fine with things the way they were. Or so she told herself often enough. True, life would be a lot better if he actually returned her feelings (and she only imagined what that would be like every day). But she was all right with not being _the one_ for him (although she had to admit that it would've hurt her more than it should if he actually met someone; thankfully, Harry didn't date). She had a job she loved, lots of friends, people liked her, her family was warm and supportive. Everything else was wonderful.

And then, the day after Ron and Hermione's wedding, everything changed.


	2. Meddlers Extraordinaire

The morning after Ron and Hermione's wedding, Ginny sat much closer to Harry than she normally would have done. Perhaps it was the hangover, or the fact that it was freezing outside, and Harry was warm. Or maybe it was just that she couldn't really hide the fact that she was in love with him. But after telling him, through a secret code of patting, that she loved him, she nestled next to him.

And they were talking about sex.

Her body reacted to the conversation. She was human, after all. She wasn't capable of thinking about Harry and sex without finding herself very warm. _It's not usually in front of him, though,_ she thought. His arm moved slightly and pressed against hers. This didn't help.

She cast a desperate look at Ron, who, bless him, seemed to realize that she couldn't quite handle it.

(Green)

_At least he's never had sex before,_ said a traitorous little voice inside her head. She immediately felt guilty. Everyone knew that Harry -- aside from being the Savior of the Wizarding World (named so by both _The Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_), and a top-notch Auror -- led a rather lonely life. His name had been paired with countless witches (every time she read a blasted article about him, her stomach plunged), but Ron and Hermione always assured her that Harry hadn't had a serious date since his fifth year.

She glared at George, who had an openly sly look on his face. _I'm going to hurt you,_ she mouthed at him.

Then, turning her head, she looked at Harry. "Why is it you put up with that git again?" she asked, gesturing toward George, who was _not_ suitably cowed by her threat to maim him.

Harry chuckled. "Oh... you know, I feel like I have to," he answered cheerfully. "Technically, he's my business partner."

"You should buy him out," Ginny informed him. "You could do it, too. I read that _Prophet_article about the five tonnes of gold you have at Gringotts," she added, winking.

"Yeah, the _Prophet_ knows a lot about my personal life," Harry said sarcastically, grinning at her. "You should believe every word about me that they print."

Ginny snorted.

"But didn't you just get done telling us that you haven't--"

"George!" Hermione interjected.

Harry reached up and ruffled his hair, his cheekbones staining red. "Must you keep talking about that?" Harry muttered.

"I, for one, think you ought to take the lot of them outside and show them what you do to dark wizards," Ginny said staunchly. Her annoyance with the press only seemed to grow with each article. It was bloody annoying the way they thought they could publish every little fact about his life -- and embellishing and flat-out lying whenever they thought it necessary.

"Er," said Harry. "I don't think my boss would like that much..."

Ginny grimaced and fiddled with the frays on her dressing gown. Harry took an awful lot of rubbish without complaining, and while she respected that, it just wasn't right that he was like an animal in a zoo to some people. Harry had always been a very private person... "Maybe I'll just do it for you," she said staunchly.

Harry moved his leg, and she was suddenly _very_ aware of the way it rested against hers. Her entire thigh tingled. _Damn it,_ Ginny thought glumly. She turned away, letting her hair fall into her face, so Harry couldn't see how damnably _red_ her entire face had gotten. It seemed she'd reached new heights of color in her cheeks, due to her embarrassment and arousal.

It didn't help that everyone -- even _Percy_ of all people! -- were giving her pointed looks and winks, obviously noting the fact that she'd been sitting very close to Harry for the last ten minutes. Ginny rolled her eyes, stifling a sigh. _Why did I tell them?_ she thought desperately for what felt like the millionth time.

The attention her family paid to her nonexistent relationship with Harry had only increased through the years. And last night -- after they'd danced awkwardly together -- had obviously caused a reaction from her family. Ginny was just waiting for her mother to pounce, and tell her that it was only a matter of time before Harry realized what was right in front of him. While this used to bolster her spirits, Ginny couldn't quite believe it anymore.

If Harry was ever going to notice her, it would've happened a long time ago.

"Does anyone want to go play Quidditch?" she asked quickly, forgetting that it was January, and obviously too bloody cold to go flying. _Could I be any more of a moron?_she thought, giving herself a mental kick.

"Er," said Ron, gesturing at the pile of presents still surrounding him. "We've still got these to go through."

"Right," Ginny said. "I was just... feeling cooped up."

Harry shifted and rose slowly to his feet.

Ginny watched him, dismayed. "I didn't mean cooped up on the sofa," she said. _Damn it, Ginny!_ "You didn't have to get up. You should sit back down..." She determinedly kept her eyes away from any member of her family, who probably thought she sounded about twelve years old. _Any minute now I'll stick my elbow in the butter dish,_ she thought darkly.

"That's all right," Harry said, glancing at his watch. "I've got to go into the Ministry anyway..."

Five minutes later he was gone, after a flurry of goodbyes and bantering comments to Ron.

"Well," Hermione said, as soon as the fire died down in the hearth, and the flames changed back to their normal color. "He's very comfortable around you," she said sympathetically.

Ginny shrugged a shoulder. _What was the use of Harry being comfortable around me?_She wanted him to feel the way she did. Every nerve in her body had been on high alert last night while they'd been dancing, and then again today, when they'd just been sitting next to each other. How was it even possible that that kind of intensity could be so one-sided.

"I still think he's going to wake up one day, and it'll just smack him over the head that he fancies you," Ron announced. "The way it did for me with Hermione."

Ginny appreciated the support, but the more time went on, the more it became apparent that she wasn't ever going to be to Harry what he was to her. "You don't have to keep saying that," she told him. "It just makes it worse."

"And _I_ still think you should just grab him and snog him," George said, juggling wadded up balls of wrapping paper. "That'd be a nice wake up call."

Ginny hated to admit it, but George's advice had a certain appeal.

_What've I got to lose?_


End file.
